Kingkiller's Return
by RastafarienEnderman
Summary: It has been a decade sense Eragon has defeated Galbatorix, and left Alagaësia. Now He must return, as an impending war threatens to split the land.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my second submitted work, but my first one that I have any hopes for. Please read the whole thing, and critique, good or bad, I live for **

Chapter 1

As Eragon looked in the mirror he couldn't help but smile.

The mirror showed the pouting face of a ten year old child. She had e the same beautiful face and copper hair as her mother, but had the steely grey eyes and personality as her father, Roran.

"Stop complaining," Eragon said smiling. "When I was a tad older than you I had to learn runes and symbols and it helped me out a lot. You will grow to thank your parents yet."

Ismira huffed indignantly, "Well I want to learn to fight," she said her voice going dreamy, and her eyes glazed over. "I want to be in battle, and protect people, and be able to protect myself. I don't want to have to wait for some guy to fight for."

Eragon kept smiling, but inwardly his spirits sank._ She is wise beyond her years, and soon she might just have her chance to do as she wants._ "Your wants and needs are very different from each other," stated Eragon, allowing his serious face to come to surface. "Learning to read and write is important. I expect you to take your education seriously. It _is_ important. If you promise me that," Eragon smiled again, "I'll see what I can talk to your dad about starting your training as a warrior."

"Really!?" she squealed. "I never thought about learning from dad. Did he use that hammer in the living room. Was he any good in the war? How long did he serve. How many did he-"

"Ismira!" Eragon interrupted, laughing. "Do you promise?"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" she was bouncing in her seat, and smiling from ear to ear.

"Ok," He chuckled, "Now go on and get your dad. Send your mom my love." With a final 'thank you' she scampered out of his field of vision. Eragon let his thoughts drift, for a second, to Saphira, who was still out hunting. The other Riders where enjoying their free time hunting, fighting, or with their dragons, forging a deeper connection.

"Hello Eragon," said Roran gruffly. "You still don't look a day older."

"And you look ten years so," Jested Eragon. It wasn't a lie though. Roran had trimmed his beard, and he was still corded with muscle from a life time of farming, and from months of fighting in the war. But his eyes had wrinkles around them, and he moved his shoulder stiffly like he could still feel the Ra'zac. "How is your shoulder?"

"Ah, you noticed," grunted Roran. He sighed, "Old age."

"You're only around 30," stated Eragon.

"I feel 50."

"You look 25." finished Eragon, smiling. Roran blinked for a second then burst out in his roaring laughter that made Eragon homesick.

They talked for a while, talking about old times, going on for a long time into the evening. Eragon came to his senses faster than his cousin. "My brother," Eragon said sadly, "I must go soon, but first I promised Ismira I would talk to you about her training in weapons."

Roran's booming laugh sounded again, and went on for some time. When he settled down, still chuckling, he said, "I had a surprise for her birthday. I was going to start teaching her something or another. That girl has crazy timing. Don't worry she will stop pestering you."

A thought came to Eragon, "Roran. Why have you not told your daughter about your role in war against Galbatorix? You should have told her. She is part of your blood, and if you don't tell her some other person will tell her. Do you want her to get a skewed account of the story?"

Roran hung his head. "Those times were… horrid. I still have nightmares after ten years. I see Katrina being taken by the Ra'zac. I see men I killed, with crushed helmets, and bones poking through skin," he hesitated. "I still see the day you left Eragon."

Eragon averted his cousins eye, "You know I had to leave," Eragon said. "Angela prophesized it."

"What if she meant in your death you would leave Alagaësia?" asked Roran, his temper rising.

"I am not dead," said Eragon. "There is peace in the land and the only way I could come back is if a war threatens to split Alagaësia."

"Then you might be coming home sooner than you think," mumbled Roran somberly, his anger gone.

Eragon's blood froze. Anything that could make Roran worry was a treat to look into. He swallowed, "What are you talking about Roran?"

Roran hung his head, and when he looked up his eyes where steely grey. "The land is only peaceful on the surface. There is turmoil under the surface."

"Well I would think," said Eragon. "The government went drastically from the one thing that everyone knew, and that is Galbatorix's rule."

Roran shook his head. "It's worse than that brother. The elves have been more active. People are not use to seeing them, and some of their appearances are… different. People are calling them child murderers, and the only think keeping them from attacking them is that they know magic, but that won't hold them for long, nor is that the only thing going on.

"The dwarves are angry that only two dwarf riders have been named, while at least five each other race has come about. They claim tampering with the eggs. They say that the people who ferry the eggs are spending more time in other places, including Urgals. Orik is doing all he can to calm the dwarves down, but if he uses to heavy a hand a civil war with the dwarves might break out.

"Queen Arya," Eragon flinched, but Roran pretended to take no notice, "She keeps the elves calm, and pardons the humans for their ignorance, stating that they the elves have been in seclusion for too long and must be patient to be integrated into society again. At least one race isn't losing its temper, but the queen is working tirelessly to accomplish unity with the lands."

Roran paused, lost in thought, and then continued on in a strained voice, "High Queen Nasuada is using all her power to keep peace with Surda, even though Orrin promised he wouldn't break it. The remnant of the empire is banded together, and is now trying to wreak havoc on Alagaësia. Surda is possibly supporting them, and Murtagh nowhere to be found."

He took a deep breath and looked into Eragon's eyes. "One of your riders has disappeared," he stated.

Eragon felt like Saphira had laid on him, she had once, and all the air was expelled from his lungs. After composing himself again he asked, "Who is it?"

Roran, clenched his jaw, and kept silent for a time. Finally he said, "Gorzvok." Eragon sat back in his seat, and rubbed his face, taking deep breaths. Gorzvok was the first ever urgal rider. He had shown great potential, and great aptitude for magic. But he was bloodthirsty, as is his entire race, and could only do magic pertaining to fighting.

Roran's pleading voice cut through Eragon's ravine. "Eragon… we need Riders."

"You have twenty-one their right now, not including Gorzvok, and seven more will be coming within the next three years," Eragon said quietly.

"You know that's not what I mean," Roran exclaimed. "We need _you_,Eragon. We need the Kingkiller, The Grand Master of the Dragon Rider Order. We need you, Eragon. Alagaësia needs you."

Eragon remained silent. It wasn't that he didn't want to go, on the contrary, he yearned to go back home, but…

_What's holding you back Eragon. Only yourself, so why are you still here?_ Shaking his head, Eragon turned to Roran. "It has been great talking to you again Roran. Come back to this mirror in a fortnight, and you will have my answer. I... I need time to think on this Roran. This is a lot to ask."

"I am asking what is necessary. Nothing more," replied Roran.

With one final goodbye, Eragon dissolved the spell, allowing the image to fade away until Eragon was the looking at himself. He really hadn't changed. But now he was more mature, and serious.

Eragon sighed, stood up, and walked through the hut outside. The salty air assaulted his nose, and he didn't bother to put on boots, so the crisp grass attacked his feet on the southern front. Eragon stalked to the cliffs overlooking the sea. The last remnants of the morning sun, Aiedail for which the island is named after, was fading to west, and to the east the stars where twinkling brightly.

Eragon stood there for hours, pondering his choices. He was still there, in the same spot, when Saphira finally came back. Her powerful wings beat the air, as she landed. So lost in thought was Eragon that he didn't sense her. '_Little one,'_ she said,_ 'what troubles you so?'_

Knowing that she would figure out sooner or later he told her everything that was bothering him, the turmoil in Alagaësia, and the problems with the four races, the impending war, and the missing Rider.

After telling her this, Eragon felt like a portion of the load that he had was taken off. She was his best friend, and knew him more than anyone. She knew, through their link, the chaos in his mind and the difficulty of the decision personally

.He took a deep breath, and forced his mind to calm down. Saphira lay down, and encircled him in her body. She had grown twice the size, from the last decade. Eragon lay down lest to her, and she covered him with her wings and love. He took one more deep breath, and then let himself drift into his waking dream.

For the next week, Eragon pondered the possibilities, and reached a decision. He would go back to Alagaësia, and stop war from erupting. At the moment Eragon reached his decision, Saphira let out a triumphant roar at the training grounds. Eragon smiled to himself, and shook his head. He started packing, and when he was finished he wrote a letter addressed to Blödhgarm explaining his absence putting Glaedr in charge until Eragon came back. Outside Saphira landed heavily, eager to go.

'_Come on Eragon,' _she said, excitement causing her to squirm, _'let us be off I wish to see Fírnen again.'_ She scrabbled onto he back her saddle already on.

When he was strapped in Saphira took off, her excitement feeding his own causing his smile to widen.

And so Eragon Bromsson, Shadeslayer, Kingkiller, The Grand Master of the Dragon Rider Order, no Eragon Nonesson, flew back to his homeland, Alagaëia.

**Thank you for reading, now critique, and if you liked it please favorite author, and story. I plan on making more but don't know how many more. It could be just a book or I could make a series. I don't know. Please send suggestion to TheEONBaTBoT Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! :) Sorry about the wait. I had posted that first chapter at the end of my winter break form school, and then the school decided to drop a boatload of homework on me. Now that it is the weekend and I have finished my homework (From 2:30 to 7:47 seriously school?) I decide to write the next chapter.**

**Enjoy****!**

Chapter 2

The blue-green sea rolled on as far as the eye can see. The light reflected harshly off the water, and the air cut strait through Eragon's thin tunic. She shivered, and silently cursed himself. He was smarter than this. He had left in such a rush of excitement; he forgot how cold traveling over the sea was.

He could cast a magical shield but, all of his energy was going to sustaining Saphira. With this sunrise in their eyes, he and Saphira where entering their third day of non-stop flight. Wrapping his arms tighter around him, as Eragon wished for the hundredth time that they stayed at the island a day-and-a-half ago that they passed.

_'Saphira!'_ Eragon said startled that she was still angled east past the island slightly south of them. _'What are you doing? We need to rest. Especially you. Don't you remember that it took a month to sail to the island?'_

Saphira just snorted causing a plume of smoke to erupt form her nostrils. Eragon blinked back tears, and smoke out of his eyes. "Saphira!" he actually yelled. _'I thought we were through with this.'_

_ 'Sorry Eragon,'_ she said. And he could feel the sincerity of the statement, but there was an underlying current of mirth. _'But honestly, Eragon, it took us a month because we were on the floating wood. "Bad for fire" you said.'_ She chuckled. _'You forget the obvious, Eragon. You are riding a _dragon. _At the most it will take us five days. I couldn't do it before, but now I am almost twelve years old, and I can do a lot more than I could during the war.'_

That was a day-and-a-half ago, and now Eragon can tell Saphira was regretting her decision, and wanting land to show itself. Eragon was feeling the same. So, on they flew on.

They were on their last morsels of energy, when, in high noon, they spotted the island that indicated that they were two days ride, on a dragon, from Alagaësia. It wasn't particularly big, but it was covered in a thick forest of trees, and Eragon knew from experience that there was a pool of freshwater in the exact center of the island, and a hot-spring further down the creak it made. Eragon poured renewed energy into Saphira, and, threw their link, Eragon could feel Saphira muscles relax slightly, and her wing beet grew stronger.

In an hour Saphira made a, not to graceful landing, on the beach. With stiff limbs, Eragon unbuckled the straps on the saddle holding his legs. Saphira folder her sore, wings.

Eragon jumped off Saphira, and landed with a wince. Stretching his legs, Eragon started unstrapping the saddle. When it finally came off, she lumbered to her feet and went to the nearest tree, and rubbed her back against the tree like a cat.

Saphira sighed, _'that feels great. That saddle chafes my scales, why did you choose that one?'_

_ 'I didn't do it intentionally,'_ he said defensively. He lugged their stuff further toward the tree line, and then plopped down. He was just about to fall asleep when Saphira asked, _'Eragon?'_

_ 'Yes?' _ He asked.

_'Can you get that spot on my back?' _She said.

Eragon sighed, and moved his stiff body into an upright position, and gave Saphira a look. Then, relenting, he got up and walked to her, and reached under one of her scales and scratched her skin. Saphira made a deep sound in her throat that sounded like a purr, and Eragon couldn't help but smile. Through their connection, Eragon could feel how good it felt for her.

After a while she said, _'and the one my nose…' _He laughed, and moved so that he could scratch it. _'Blissful.'_

After a couple of minutes, Saphira flopped down, spraying sand in the air, and opened her wing. Eragon scrambled back to get the saddle and came back to curl up next to her, as she, once again, wrapped herself around him. The last thing he remembered before he fell into his waking sleep was that it was only noon.

When he opened his eyes, the sun was just coming up, and it cast a blue shadow over him, as it filtered through Saphira's wing. Wishing to get out Eragon tickled Saphira's wing muscle and it reveled to him the world.

He was looking east, and the sun was once again in his eyes. To the south was clear skies, but, to the north, storm clouds where coming into view, and moving fast.

"Barzul." Eragon growled. _'Saphira!' _Eragon though frantically at her, _'Wake up!'_

_ 'It is just a storm little one,' _said Saphira calmly.

_'Just get into the trees.'_

She didn't answer but lumbered off to the trees, humming, oddly happy.

They made it to a clearing big enough for Saphira just in time. Eragon put up barriers to stop wind and rain. Then he sat down against Saphira, talking with her and waiting for the storm to break away. They waited a day there, for it didn't break until well into the night while both were asleep.

The next day Saphira went "fishing." She went high into the sky and when she found a worthy prey. Eragon watched in fascination, as Saphira dove from the sky, the light glittering off her sapphire colored armor. In a blur, she disappeared in the water, and after a couple of second, she emerged. She shot out of the water, using her momentum from her fall to get her out of the water; she spread her wings and angled herself toward the island again. In her jaws, her prisoner, a shark, squirmed. With one powerful effort Saphira, sank her teeth deeper killing it.

When she landed she started right away ripping apart the carcass, and bloodying the white sand. When she was finished, she licked the blood of her claws, and lay down.

_'What are you doing?' _Eragon asked. _'We have to leave.'_

_ 'I will leave tomorrow,'_ she replied. _'You can leave. I will catch up tomorrow.'_ Eragon couldn't help but laugh.

So they left the next day.

The island of Vroengard was in view. This was their first morning after they left. Eragon's emotions mirrored Saphira's; excitement, fear, longing, and wariness. They flew toward the huge island, and the tension from their body's eased a little bit.

After a second, they were able to see Alagaësia.

"Alagaësia," Eragon sighed.

'_Home.'_ Saphira was elated to see it again.

They didn't get to treasure the sight for long, because a hard gust of wind blew Eragon out of the saddle. He had been sitting without the straps off to let his legs free for a while, when he was blown out of his seat.

Now the world tilted, turned, and spun everywhere. He opened his arms to stabilize his fall, but before he could he slammed into the sea. Water filled his nose and he forced himself to refrain from breathing.

The salty water stung his eyes, and he could only see general shapes in the water. Turning to the light he saw the surface. He started swimming to it when he felt a prickle of unease shivered through his back. He looked down, and nearly gasped in the salt water.

A Nïdhwal was emerging from the depths. Its eyes stood out clear against its murky background.

It let loose a mental shriek that paralyzed Eragon where he floated.

'_Eragon!' _Saphira yelled. _'Your sword, Eragon!'_

That snapped him out of ravine. Pulling the hand-and-a-half sword from his scabbard from his hip, Eragon thought _'Brisingr!' _ The blue sword burned even underwater, and at the same time he felt Saphira dive to pull him out of the water.

Then the Nïdhwal was on Eragon.

It lunged at him, but was only met with water. Eragon had used magic to pull himself to the side at the last second. The creature was only a few feet away, and without thinking Eragon plunged the fiery, blue sword into its eye. It actually screamed under water, but before it could recover Saphira's claw enclosed Eragon. Seconds later, higher in the air, and temporarily safe, they both heard the Nïdhwal breach the surface, and release its cry, for whole world to hear.

**Thanks for reading, again review, and give suggestions. I do plan on making a lot of these. Also I plan on making at least one per weekend, and I hope to post another one this weekend, so fingers crossed. Also if there are any questions I can answer any that you have, so feel free to send me some. Thanks! Hope you enjoyed**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys long time no see! Sorry about that mess up last chapter. I haven't read the last book in about eight months, and I totally forgot that Eragon left to the EAST not the west. But who cares right. For the sake of being on the same page let's just say that they left to the west. Agreed? Cool. Hears the chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

The twinkling of the stars far above usually mesmerized Eragon, but that night they didn't seem capable of capturing his attention. His waking dreams wouldn't take him, for his mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions.

After the encounter with the sea-dragon Eragon and Saphira flew to Vroengard, with Eragon in Saphira's claws. On the way, they talked about the weather to stop for the night of continue. After long consideration, they both decided to get a little bit of rest, but get up long before the sun showed. If they were correct they would come to Roran's home under the cover of darkness.

'Carvalhall.' Eragon sighed. He missed his old life were nothing depended on him, and all he had to worry about was him, Roran, and Garrow_. 'Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Eragon,_' he chides himself. He shifted, and, in turn so did Saphira.

After their landing, Eragon dried his cloths, and curled next to Saphira. But after hour, try as he might, he couldn't rest. Saphira had long ago lost herself to sleep, but before she could he had asked her about his main concern.

'_Saphira,'_ he hesitates,_ 'Do you think we will be able to cross back into Alagaësia?'_

'_I am a dragon,'_ she stated like that cleared up everything. Sensing that he is still confused she continued. _'I go where I want and no one can stand in my way.'_

'_You can't go into some of the tunnels made by dwarves, and most of the human houses,'_ he stated.

'_Eragon!'_ She said hotly._ 'I am trying to help, and if you want to keep insisting on contradicting me I will lick you until you learn your lesson._'

He chuckled, _'Sorry, but what if I am not supposed to go back to Alagaësia?'_

She tuned to him and sighed, sending a puff of hot air to ruffle his hair. _'If you want to get technical, Eragon, We _are _in Alagaësia. Vroengard is part of the land, just like all the other islands.'_

He couldn't help but laugh at that. He realized with a start that he was forgetting his training, and acting like a little farm boy.

'_Now if you are finished I wish to get some sleep.' _ Her toned lightened, _'everything will be fine, Little One.'_

But still, after hours of contemplation, Eragon couldn't calm his mind. _'What if I am magically bound from Home? How do I know that the prophecy was referring to me _literally _leaving? What if it is referring to a spiritual departure? Or even that an aspect like Eragon Son of None would leave Alagaësia? But-No. I know I have to oversee the raising of the new age of Dragon Riders. So what am I doing returning to Alagaësia? Because it _needs _me. But what If I can't get past the border…' _

And so where his thoughts until he remembered Saphira's words. With that in mind, He managed to slip into his waking sleep, with dawn about two hours away.

The last thought that went through Eragon's mind was: _'Barzûl! What am I going to say to Arya?'_

Eragon woke about half an hour from dawn, knowing he wasn't getting any more rest. He roused Saphira, who blew smoke into his face. Before Aiedail rose to the east, they were far over the water. It was past high noon when Saphira was to past the border to the mainland.

As they passed the border to Alagaësia, Eragon stiffened; expecting to hit a magical barrier, but they flew smoothly on.

Late into the night, they passed onto the north of Spine Mountains. Sooner than Eragon had expected Carvalhall came into view.

The familiar streets where there, but the ten year absence has slightly changed the surface. There were more side streets and the older houses where larger, and made of stone. The original occupants of the space was destroyed, by the Ra' zac's solders. There were more houses, and streets were wider than they once were.

'_I bet if it wasn't so early on the morning, the streets would be filled with people and noise,' _Eragon thought. _'The very air would hum with voices, and aromas of sweet food being cooked.' _

'_Eragon,' _Saphira said. _'We have been out in the open for too long, and it will be light soon. I am going to go to Roran's house now.'_ They had decided to keep their presence unknown to most.

Eragon sighed as Saphira dipped back behind the hills again. Just the little glimpse of Carvalhall had set his mind back to the time he left it with Brom. With his father. That thought set him longing to go to Brom's tomb. Eragon shook his head to bring him back to the present.

Roran's house was coming into view. It was built over the spot of their childhood with Garrow. It was made of grey marble, and loomed three stories high. Only a two of the windows had light on the other side, but Eragon couldn't see past because of the cloth hangings.

A ways away from the house, Saphira landed as silently as she could. She held her muscles tensed for a second, and Eragon had to laugh at the sight.

'_When did you become a werecat?' _he asked, stiffening his laughter with a fist. He glanced back at the house again, and all mirth left him. _'What will they say?'_

'_Eragon,'_ Saphira chide. _'We are here now, so they will have to deal with it whether they like it or not.'_

Eragon swallowed, and fumbled with the buckles on the saddle. After a moment's hesitation, He swung himself onto the ground. As soon as his feet touched the ground, it felt like a piece of himself settled itself back into him. He smiled at being able to be back on Alagaësia. He took a deep breath and smelled the aroma of home.

"Carvalhall," He murmured. He turned to the door, and it seemed to grow, until Eragon realized that he was standing in front of it. He raised his arm to knock on the door, but hesitated, a second. Stealing himself he brought his fist to the door, multiple times.

With his elven hearing, Eragon heard the footsteps coming closer. Then, abruptly, they stopped just in front of the door.

Eragon swallowed, and the door whipped open revealing Roran Garrowson.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hey guys! Long time no post huh?! *chirping* **_

_**Wow lame joke, but true never-the-less. Sorry about that. I had some problems with my dad so I was occupied for a little while. I decided to write the chapters down now so I may, no promises, be able to update more often.**_

_**Lastly I wanted to so say that I am thinking of starting a new fan fiction. It will be a PJO/HOO one, so if anybody if you them please read, and review.**_

_**Authors note: (I keep forgetting to do this) I do NOT own the Inheritance Cycle.**_

_**Random Author's note: Just in case anyone was wondering I am earing about 3 boxes of pop tarts while I write this.**_

_**The story!**_

"You can whip that ridiculous smile off your face," Eragon said, even though he, himself was smiling like a mad man.

Roran stood in his doorway, frozen; a pleased and dumbfounded look on his face.

He looked good. His tunic showed off his arms, corded with muscles, and some tan leggings. The bags under his eyes, and partially tucked in shirt, suggested that he was either having a long night or just waking up. After several more seconds of motionless, Eragon started to think that something was really wrong, when Roran finally moved.

"Eragon!" Roran yelled loud enough to rival a kull war cry. He sprang forward and enveloped Eragon in a bone-crushing hug. The breath was squeezed out of Eragon's lungs, but he found himself returning the hug with just as much enthusiasm.

After a while Roran grunted. "Eragon," he said his voice strained, "You need to let up. I can't breathe." Eragon, and Roran released their death grips, and both gasped in great amounts of air, before catching each other's eye, and laughing.

They laughed until they got stiches in their sides, and tears streaming down their face, and then laughed some more. When they composed themselves they hugged again.

Roran pulled back first. "Eragon," he exclaimed again, "you look great!" He paused and slightly cocked his head to the left. His eyes slowly scanning Eragon from head to toe. When Roran's eyes finally reached his again, He shook his head, and chuckled. "I stand corrected. You look the exact same as when you left."

"Isn't it polite to invite people into your house? Or has the customs changed?" Eragon joked.

"Why would a dragon rider, of all people, want permission to go somewhere?" Roran asked.

"Anyone who tries to go into the house of the man who weaseled a full grown urgal without his permission, well they are going to have a bad time."

"I don't know. You could have broken my back with that hug."

They went on for a while until a new voice cut through their conversation. "Can you two idiots get inside?" a female voice called from down the hall in Roran's house. "All the heat is leaving the…" Her voice faltered when she saw Eragon.

Then, shuffled down the hall, Katrina moved until she was in front of Eragon. With a shriek, she wrapped her arms around Eragon and squeezed until Eragon's back popped. He hugged her back gently, and then disengaged. "I don't think even Roran ever hugged me that hard. I had that knot in my back for a week now. Thank you."

Katrina laughed, but said, "We should get inside. The snow only just melted."

"Agreed," said Roran, "But first we must great this dragon, too."

Eragon felt that, even though Saphira usually hated not being addressed for so long, she was overly amused by the actions of the 'two feet's.' As Roran, Katrina, and Eragon approached, Saphira looked up from cleaning her claws and berated them all with one good eye.

Eragon stepped back as Roran started to speak. "Hello Saphira Brightscales. I apologize for not coming over earlier."

"_It is quite alright,"_ Saphira said speaking to everyone. _"Though it is true I do not like to be held waiting, I understand the circumstances." _She nudged Roran and Katrina. _"It is a pleasure to see you both, and I look forward to seeing little Ismira too, but I have had a long flight. I will go hunt and rest before I return." _With that Saphira spread her wings, and Eragon, and his two cousins where buffeted back, by the wind.

"She has grown so big, and into such a magnificent creature," Roran said in awe. Eragon felt a wave of pried wash over him, and he couldn't help but smile at his cousin's words.

"Come on," Katrina said, pulling herself closer to Roran. "Let us go inside."

Eragon saw this, and felt a pang of self-pity. _"You have a duty…" _he said to himself, forcing down the surge of emotions. They walked in the house, and Eragon took off his boots before he followed the two through their house.

It was somewhere between Garrow's house, and Joed's house in Teirm. The outside was made of stone while the inside, was covered in wood. The house was wide but cozy, and their where separate rooms for the kitchen, and the dining area.

They got to the living room, and Eragon was surprised to see that the couple decided to learn reading and writing.

Eragon took a seat in a chair, while Roran and Katrina sat close together on a loveseat.

"_Ironic," _thought Eragon. He felt a pang of longing to have a specific elf in his arms .His thoughts started to drift, but, before he could get too lost, Katrina spoke.

"So," she said coldly, "my father came to visit."

-RORAN-

Eragon had started to get this glazed look in his eye, which told Roran that he was thinking about Arya. _"Same old Eragon,"_ Roran thought. He was about to ask what happened to them, when Katrina stiffened in his arms, and spoke up.

The next six words seemed to stop the world, and snap Eragon back into the present.

His jaw tightened, and Eragon clinched his fists. His posture, once relaxed, now spoke of danger, and his eyes, now hard as obsidian, never left Katrina's.

"How long ago?" Eragon asked his voice now professional, with no emotion in it.

"Two years ago," Katrina stated her voice steely, but Roran heard her voice shake slightly with emotion knew she was close to losing her temper. Roran decided that this was a rift between Katrina and Eragon, and that he shouldn't interfere.

Eragon nodded, "He's a smart man. Good man too."

That pushed Katrina over the edge. "How could you!" she screamed, jumping from the seat. "He was my father! I heard the Ra'zac torturing him! He may have made some mistakes, but you didn't need to lie to us! He told me what you did-"

"Katrina," Roran cut across, taking her hand and pulling her back down. "You will wake Ismira."

Katrina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her eyes opened, and Roran saw tears well in her eyes. "He was my father," she stated, her voice think with emotions. "How could you?"

Roran looked at his cousin and saw sadness in his eyes. "I know that I lied to you, and I know that it wasn't the best choice to make. But I do not regret it. He has become a better person, and he needed to pay for his crimes against Carvahall." Eragon paused. "He told you what I did to him?" Katrina just nodded.

"He told you I used his true name to invoke him to say the oaths in the ancient language?" Another nod. "Did he tell you what I did for him?"

"Only that you gave him a staff," Katrina said. Her face was now streaming with tears. Roran wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her closer. She burrowed her face into his chest, and started sobbing. She continued for a while until she was dried out, and her eyes red and puffy. She turned back to Eragon who had dropped his emotionless mask.

His face showed deep sorrow, and hurt. "I didn't like making him take the oaths. I had just turned into a man, and I was already doing more than most men." His voice broke, and he had to turn away for a second. He turned back wiping a tear from his eye, and sniveling. "I put protective spells on him so that he would never be hurt by anything in the wild, and so he would end in Ellesméra with the elves.

"Before I left I gave him back his eyesight, so he could see you at the feast. I was the one who told him that if he changed his true name, by changing his nature, he could talk to you, and hold you again," Eragon swallowed. "I gave him everything. I could have killed him, but I gave him a second chance at life. I truly am sorry, but I do not regret my decision. I knew that one day he would see you again."

Katrina sat stunned for a second before she was able to talk. "I-I am sorry Eragon. I did-"

"No apology necessary," Eragon said with a wave of his hand. "You were within your rights."

Roran cleared his throat drawing their attention. "Sense we are telling everything, Eragon, tell me. Why did you leave, and why are you here?"

"I left," Eragon said slowly, avoiding Roran's eye, "Because I had, and still have, a duty. I needed to raise the next generation of riders, and there was no suitable place in Alagaësia. I come back, because my land Alagaësia is in trouble. I come back because, as you yourself told me, Alagaësia needs her rider back."

Roran shook his head. "We have riders here, Eragon"

This time Eragon shook his head, and he laughed. "They aren't full riders yet. It has been nine years sense my oldest rider came to me, and he still cannot do a fourth of the things that I could do when I faced Galbatorix. They _will_ be great riders, but it will take time."

"We have one full rider," Katrina said. "Arya has been doing wonderful."

Eragon winced, and rubbed his right hand. "She is also the queen of the elves, and that is her first priority."

Both Roran and Katrina saw Eragon's reaction, and herd the strain in his voice. "Eragon?" Katrina asked. "What happened between you and that elf?"

Roran's cousin seemed to be having a hard time finding his voice. "We both had a job too-"

"Don't give me that Kull crap!" Roran exclaimed. "Everyone could see the two of you becoming closer, and we all saw how you two acted around each other. Not to mention the fact that I was there when you left ten years ago. I saw both of your emotions as clear as the sun!"

Eragon slid his hands down his face. "We both have a job to Alagaësia."

Roran scoffed, "You have a job to Alagaësia? Well Alagaësia has a job to you. You should be able to love someone, and-"

"Roran!" Eragon exclaimed losing his patience. "I have made several attempts to be with Arya. The only time she showed any indication that she was interested was when I was leaving! Every time I try something comes between us. When I left, I resigned myself to thinking that I was going to live alone. I don't even know if she feels the same way anymore…" Eragon trailed off, his voice filled with hurt and worry.

Roran stayed silent, shocked. The silence stretched, and was only broken by Eragon's random question.

"Would you come back?"

"What?" Roran said confused.

"Would you pick up your hammer again?" Eragon elaborated. "Would you take a spear and a shield, and fight for the right cause again?"

Katrina stiffened, and Roran pulled her closer. He tugged at his beard, but was saved from answering when a little voice said, "Who is that?"

-ERAGON-

Eragon saw a smile split Roran and Katrina's faces when they turned to see the little child who was standing in the door way. In the silence Eragon had heard her come down the stairs, so he only grinned, and turned to Ismira.

"Why," he said faking hurt, "I was the first one to sing you to sleep."

Ismira stared dumbfounded for a second, before letting loose a squeal. "UNCLE ERAGON!" She ran across the room, her copper hair streaming behind her. She jumped on to Eragon, and at the same time, a presence shredded through his mental defenses; blanketing him in joy and happiness.

Eragon managed to catch her, but couldn't stop a startled, "Oh!" to escape his mouth.

"Is it truly you?" Ismira asked oblivious to his outburst. "Dad said you where over the water!"

Eragon couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes it really is me. But, oh my! You have grown a lot. Last I held you; you were no longer than my forearm." She giggled into his chest, and realized with a start that the presence in his mind was Ismira's.

"Ismira," Katrina said, "You are supposed to be asleep."

"I couldn't sleep with you and dad yelling at Uncle Eragon," Ismira pouted.

Eragon cut in quickly. "If I may, I think I might have something that may help." He looked to Roran who nodded. With conformation, Eragon started humming the lullaby that he sung to her on the day he left.

After a couple of lines, Ismira was curled into a ball on his lap, and sound asleep. Eragon spoke a spell that allowed the adults to speak in piece, and not be heard by Ismira.

Eragon looked at Ismira's parents, and stated, "Ismira is a magician."

They didn't react the way he thought they would. They both heard him exclaim, and both had looked worried, but now they looked almost relieved.

After a second, Eragon realized why. "You guys knew!"

"Of course we knew!" Roran exclaimed. "She's our daughter!"

Eragon shook his head. "She is incredibly strong. She tore through my defenses like they were nothing. You have to get her trained."

Roran sighed. "We know that it's just we don't want her to be trained by a human. They have messed up morals at times when it comes to power. If we do get her trained we want it to be by you. We were actually going to ask you to do it."

Eragon shook his head again. "I would never be around long enough to teach her anything more that the basics. If you want I could possibly get an elf to do it."

A scowl darkened his cousin's face. "No. If not you than she doesn't get trained."

Eragon let out a frustrated sigh. He couldn't let Ismira go untrained, that was dangerous to her and everyone else. "What will it take to convince you two to let an elf train Ismira?"

Roran was about to argue something, but Katrina, who had been so quiet that Eragon thought she wasn't listening, cut across him. "How about before you leave, Eragon, you teach Ismira the basics. That does include shielding her mind right?" Eragon nodded. "Then once you leave you have to go straight to Ellesméra, and ask Queen Arya for a tutor for Ismira."

Eragon's jaw fell. Roran glanced at Katrina, winked, and looked back at Eragon a smug look on his face. Eragon knew he was stuck. He couldn't let Ismira go untrained, and he knew Roran wouldn't let a human teach her. Katrina's proposal was a compromise in between, but it also gave Ismira's parents a satisfaction of putting Eragon and Arya back together.

Eragon sighed, _"Why does it have to be this way?"_

Saphira, who was tearing into the carcass of a dear, hummed. _"I do not know why you are scared,"_ Saphira said, almost laughing. _"You think about Arya almost all the time, and it's been a while, I want to see how the relationship has developed. Plus there was that one dream you had about her, when-"_

"_Saphira!"_ Eragon shouted. He blushed, but couldn't help but smile. Shaking his head, he looked at Katrina. "You have a deal." Both Roran and his wife sighed in relief. "But Roran, You still haven't answered my question. Will you fight by my side again?"

Without hesitation Roran replied. "Of course, Eragon. For Alagaësia, and Katrina, and Ismira, and you, I would. I would do it for all those I love, and I know you would too. But the love I talk about is different. Once you and Arya settle together, you will understand the fighting with desperation for the one you can't live without."

Choosing to ignore the just of Roran's little speech, Eragon asked, "Do you always have a speech up your sleeve?"

Everyone laughed, and every worry was forgotten for a time.

_**Hey guys I hope you like the chapter! Please review, and if there are any questions please don't be shy. As I said up top I might make a new fan fiction of PJO/HOO. Also While I was writing this I came up with an idea for another Inheritance Cycle story, so keep an eye out for that.**_

_**Again sorry about the longer that usual wait, but I hope to be able to whip out stories faster now. AGAIN NO !:)**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hey guys, I'm back! Sorry I was going to post this yesterday, but my dad put a time lock on the computer so I wasn't able to get the thing done until today. And then today I went to go play basketball with some old guys. Don't let them fool you they can ball. So currently I am super sore**___

_**Anyway, you guys don't care; all you want is the story. So here it is.**_

_**Enjoy**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle **_

-ERAGON-

"Great job Ismira," Eragon said, deciding that their lesson was over with. They stood in a meadow sparring silently with their minds. "When I am gone keep practicing, but when your tutor gets here-"

"Listen to them," Ismira cut across, plopping down an a rock, "In know you tell me a hundred times a day." She huffed. "Honestly, I though you would be more fun than this." Eragon gave her a look and she amended saying, "Well you're not as bad as my other tutors, and you let me ride Saphira."

Eragon smiled remembering the ten year old girl's reactions to Saphira's request. That had been three days ago, now officially a week sense Eragon landed in Alagaësia.

Eragon planned on leaving tomorrow, but Roran and Katrina both grew angry at him. "A week after ten years is not enough time to make up for lost time. Nevertheless, they relented, and in doing so spent as much time with him as possible, to which he didn't complain.

"Uncle?" Ismira cut across his thoughts. "Who will be my tutor?" The very thought plagued Eragon's mind on restless nights.

Who would Arya send? What if she doesn't send one? How will she react to me being in Alagaësia? What if she hates me? Eragon's thoughts always came back to Arya, and how much he missed her. While he was on his island, he refrained from contacting anyone, until he Roran was able to get a magician with enough skill to breach Eragon's wards.

"I don't know," he replied looking off into the distance. "But whoever it is you need to listen. It is very important for your life, and others." A cloud passed over the spring sun, allowing the wind to turn a degree colder. A presence touched his mind's barriers lightly, and Eragon smiled. _'She's getting better,' _he thought.

"When you're done trying to breach into my mind," he said, startling Ismira, "Then you can ask me what you wish to know?" The presence faltered then drew back, and Eragon glanced at his niece. "What do you want to know?"

Ismira blushed, at being caught red handed, but stuck her chin out and got the same stubborn expression Roran sometimes wore. "You said that people's minds, are usually open, and that they only close when they focus on something really hard." Eragon nodded, and she continued, "So how is it you always have barriers up, even when you are talking, or doing an activity?"

Eragon smiled, knowing that Ismira, was asking questions far beyond her years. He had been meditating outside his hut two years ago when he had a revelation. It contradicted the old way of always being aware of ones surroundings, but it allowed one to focus on the present, while being able to think other things. It closes one's mind to the world, but still allowed for someone to multitask without having to let his guard down. They where week walls, yes, but they gave the person a second to make stronger ones.

He had been wondering when Ismira would ask about it, and wasn't mad that it took her a week. She must have been compiling information the whole while.

"It is a good question, pupil," Eragon said smiling. "But the answer is too complicated for you to understand at the moment. Once you have mastered shielding you mind, then I might tell you." He paused, looking back to the sky as the sun, Aiedail, showed again. "Now that you asked about it I think I will have them down. They take a degree of focus, and at times it becomes… tedious."

With that he allowed his mind to focus on nothing at all, just hearing, and being. Eragon was enveloped in piece, but his serenity was short lived, because Ismira still had questions.

"Uncle Eragon," she said attentively, "What happened between you and Queen Arya?"

Eragon winced inwardly, but kept his face blank. Butterflies fluttered around in his stomach, and his heart beat faster at the sound of her name. _'You're acting like a little boy, infatuated by what he can't have,' _Eragon chide himself. He swallowed, "Who told you such things?"

"I heard mom and dad talking about it," she said nonchalantly, swinging her bare feet. "They talked about fighting." She peeked up at her uncle. "Did you fight with her? You didn't yell at her did you?"

Sudden realization set in and Eragon couldn't help but smile. "Your parents were talking about the war against the old king, Galbatorix. I fought alongside Arya, when her mother was queen, although we did fight, but only sparred…" Eragon trailed off lost in thought.

"So…" Ismira said after a stretched silence, "What happened?" Eragon contemplated telling the little girl. Thinking of Arya caused long lost memories to resurface. Even after ten years away, he still smelled the fragrance of freshly crushed pine needles. He sighed, giving in.

"Arya and I went on many… adventures together. We went through the good and the bad times together, during the war against Galbatorix." At that moment, Eragon remembered Dras-Leona, and how Arya had broken her arm, because he couldn't.

"Did you really kill the evil king?" Ismira asked, awe prominently displayed in her voice. "you did didn't you? How? Was anybody with you? Who? Uncle did-"

"Calm down Ismira," Eragon chuckled. "One story at a time. Now where was I?"

"Galbatorix," Ismira said not even phased by the slight command.

"Right. Through the thick and thin," Eragon said already lost in thought, but he kept talking on his own accord. "Throughout the war our friendship blossomed." He laughed slightly, "I, foolish as I was, nearly destroyed that, but we pulled through.

"Then something changed. After the death of my mentor, who died in battle, Arya started opening up to me. You want to know who was with me when I fought the old king? Arya was. She along with other key people in the war, where present." Eragon felt sadness creeping into his bones. "Then she returned to the forests of the Du Weldenvarden, and the nest time I see her she is astride this magnificent emerald dragon, one-fourth the size of Saphira now.

"She started returning my affection, but I had made a decision to leave Alagaësia. She wouldn't follow, because of her duties as queen, and her love of the land. She was their when I left, and we parted on… good terms," his voice caught, and his chest tightened.

A silence took the clearing, and after a minute Saphira appeared, circling the clearing.

"Did you love her?" Ismira asked abruptly, shattering the silence one more.

Eragon thought for a minute, wanting to deny it. Instead he nodded thinking, _'At least that is what my true name says.'_

"Did she love you?" Ismira asked so softly, only his heightened hearing enabled him to make it out.

Eragon pretended not to hear, but still contemplated the question; not truly knowing the truth.

-RORAN-

Roran looked at the receding blue dot in the early morning, his arms wrapped around his wife, Katrina, and his daughter, Ismira. Eragon's last words still rung in his ears, holding a serious and deadly weight.

"If the time comes, my brother," he said, all traces of the carefree kid gone, replaced by a rider, _the_ rider, "I will call, but only when the situation certainly heading to war. I am sorry. Farewell my brother, I hope to see you under better circumstances."

With that, Saphira nudged all of them, much to Ismira's enjoyment, and took off with powerful beat of her wings; blowing them back a step.

It wasn't the message that shook Roran, for he knew that he would have to take up his hammer again, rather, it was the leadership and unconscious authorative command in his brothers voice that scared him. Eragon was a nice guy, the person you wanted around, but the Rider was a merciless being who's actions shaped the course of Alagaësia. When the Rider said something, none, not even the elves, could help but feel obligated to follow his command.

Roran, knowing that war was only in a matter of time, came to a decision. As the earl of Carvahall, he needed to protect his people. He forced a smile, and looked at his daughter, "Hurry up and go finish you lessons for the day. I want it done by midday; I have a surprise for you if you do." Ismira's eyes sparkled and she turned, and scampered to the house.

He watched her go a real but sad smile sat on his face. "Katrina," he said, "I need you to go into town, and tell Hors that we need every able-bodied man trained and outfitted for war." He paused, "While you are there tell Ablard to bring up some dummies for training. And get Ismira some tunics and trousers; I don't want her to rip any of her dresses of skirts during training."

Roran glanced at his wife expecting her to disagree, but she was looking at him, eyes moist. "Do you really think you will have to fight again?" she asked.

He nodded and leaned down to kiss her slowly, putting all his passion and love into it. "I kow we will," he said after he pulled away. "I can smell it in the air."

"B-but Eragons' here," stammered Katrina.

"If anything, that is all the more reason to take up arms, and get ready," he replied with a grim smile. "Wherever he goes trouble seems to follow."

_**Authors Note:**_

_**First off I would like to thank all the patient people who wait for my lazy but to post this stuff. Also I want to say I am planning on starting another Fan Fiction, Inheritance Cycle. I hope to have it up soon after this one, but I still need to type it, so give me some slack. I would really like to thank two people (You know who you are, I hope)who were up my butt about the development of Ismira. Hope you like the explanation, because if you don't… oh well can't please everyone right?**_

_**I know I have the story under 'Romance', and that there really isn't any, but trust me, if there is one thing you can count on me for its romance. Im a sucker for love, what can I say?**_

_**Thanks, again, for reading.**_

_**Bye! :)**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**O.K. I owe everyone a serious apology. I don't even know the last time I updated, and I feel like a douche. In my defense I had a crap-ton of homework, and Finals are going on right now for my second trimester (I know what self-respecting school uses trimesters).**_

_**I did manage to get a little ahead in my writing, so I have a plot figured out. And on a different note I managed to read the Game of Thrones while I was preoccupied… one of the best books I read.**_

_**Anyway nobody cares about my personal life, so one with the chapter.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle. C.P. does.**_

-ERAGON-

_"You may pass," _said Gilderien the Wise in the ancient language. _"The land has already sung of our return, and many expect you."_

_ "Thank you," _replied Eragon as he adjusted his in Saphira's saddle, while her wings beat steadily keeping them high in the air. _"There isn't a precession is their?" _he asked after a pause. In response, the elf sent him a warm smile before withdrawing his mind.

Instead of feeling happy, Eragon was nervous like a little boy going to see his crush.

It has been a week sense Eragon left Carvahall, and he hovered with Saphira just out of the boundaries of Ellesméra. The thought of seeing Arya again set his stomach into a hive of butterflies. Each day out of Roran's city, Eragon's anxiety rose, while Saphira's excitement did the same.

_'Eragon,'_ Saphira cut through his thoughts, _'It is time.' _Without further acknowledgment she dove through the canopy of trees, releasing an earsplitting roar, which was being answered even before she was finished.

-RORAN-

A scream ripped Roran form his slumber, groping blindly for the knife he kept hidden under his pillow. He froze listening to the night. Beside him Katrina stirred, and slowly rose; clutching the sheets to her exposed breasts. The silence wore on for a second longer.

"What wa-?" she was cut off by a viscous war cry, and the clashing of steel on steel. Carvahall's horns erupted in the night. Distinctively, through the clamor, Roran heard something that made his blood run cold.

An urgal bellowed into the night shaking the very air.

He sat, stunned, for a second, pondering what he just heard. _'I thought we had a truce with the urgals? Blast it. Eragon! Everywhere you go trouble follows!' _He shook himself out of his ravine. _'Don't think, Roran, do.'_

"Katrina," he said, his voice strangely calm, "take Ismira and some supplies, and go to the clearing. I will come when I can."

He slid out of bed, and found his breaches and boots. Quickly sliding the on, he turned back to his wife, who was watching him shocked. He kissed her quickly, conveying all his love into it.

"I love you,' he breathed; the noise of battle still heavy in the air. He turned and rushed out the room, only stopping to grab a tunic and his hammer from the mantle over the dark fireplace. He arrived outside fully clothed, and fully awake.

Roran turned to Carvahall, and saw a yellow light bathe the sky. He ran toward the crest of the hill in front of his house, already smelling the unique sent.

He stopped when he saw his homeland, once again, on fire. Anger swelled in his chest, as he watched humans and urgals fight the men of the town. The families where running out of their homes carrying valuables, and necessities. Most fled, but they wouldn't have made it far if not for the Night's Guard, who was putting on a coordinated counter attack. But Roran could see it was useless, for they were outnumbered: 3-1.

His breath caught at the sight in the flag, and bearer in the middle of the commotion. The bearer was possibly the largest Kull Roran had ever seen. He stood a good nine feet tall, and in his hand was a two handed mace, that obliterated everything in its path. But the flag was what caused Roran to pause.

It had Galbatorix's old symbol on it only slightly modified.

Anger retook his anxiety, as he saw that his men were dying. His chest swelled, and he released his breath in a blood curling war cry. Many turned to watch as Roran descended the hill to join the battle; the warrior's fire in him rekindled into a blazing inferno.

-KYL-

The sound of steel singing on steel woke Kyl. He groaned, and rolled over, pulling the wool closer around him despite the summer heat.

"Kyl!' he hear his mother scream from downstairs, though it didn't sound as muffled as it usually was, "Get up!" Judging by the light Kyl guessed it was noon.

_'She must have wanted me to go to classes earlier,' _he thought groggily. "It's too late ma," he grumbled, "I'll try again tomorrow…" his voice trailed off. _'Why was it so hot?'_

"W-what?" his mom sputtered, "Kyl get up! Your beds on fire! The house is on fire!"

"Well give it some water then…"he mumbled.

He mom was not happy with that reply. "KYL GET UP!" His eyes snapped open, and his eyes immediately started stinging from the heat, smoke, and ash falling from the ceiling. Flames licked the walls of his room, and, as he watch, his window broke and an arrow embedded itself not a foot from his face.

Kyl looked around, sitting up in his bed, to his left, the floor was all but gone, and he could see the main room of the house burning, his mother standing in the center of it, wearing her armor. "Kyl!" she screamed at him, "Your bed is on fire!" He glanced down, and saw, to his horror, his legs swathed in flames.

He screamed, and jumped from the bed, to the right of his bed, tumbling over his leather boots on the foot where he left them. He landed on broken glass, and one cut the palm on his left hand. He scrambled to his feet, chest heaving.

"Kyl? Kyl!" his Sariah's worried voice drifted up. "Kyl are you okay?!"

"Yeah!" he called back, chocking from the heat, and smoke. "Ma, wha-?"

"Get out of the town," she cut him off curtly, her motherly affection gone; replaced by the soldier that she was. "I'll find you after everything is done! Get out of here!"

Kyle who had been blinking the smoke and tears out of his eyes, finally managed to glance a look at the hole again. The floor had given way porously close to his bed, and flames devoured the house, which was nothing more than a wooden barn. The floor was covered in piles of burning wood, while out the window downstairs Kyl could see men fighting men, and urgals. A beam was hanging from the hole to the bottom floor.

The sound off wounded men, animals, and urgals, filled the air along with the screams, curses, and cries of the battling. The underlying current of blood hung in the air, under the smoke. He saw bodies, disfigured and deformed, fighting and laying on the ground. As he watched, an urgal at least seven feet tall, beheaded a man with a giant two handed axe.

His mother was decorated in her Varden armor, her long sword was clutched in her right hand, dripping blood, and she was missing her knife. A slash was bleeding on her cheek, and on her left side blood seeped through her armor and tunic.

"Kyl!" she yelled at him, drawing him out of his ravine. "Yes, you! Don't just stand there like a blubbering fool, because I didn't raise one! Now, GET OUT!"

That spurred him into action, and he quickly put on his boots, and snatched his knife from the top of his dresser before the flames consumed it with their hungry fingers. He glanced around for his bow, and aha dust found it burning in the corner, when a loud bang drew his attention to his mother.

A section of the wall had fallen, and the sight outside almost made Kyl yelp in fear. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen stood flanked by the biggest urgals he had ever seen. They were all clad in battle gear. The urgals wore hauberks under a brigandine decorated with a white crowned dragon, over a field of fire.

The sight of it made Kyl suck in a breath through is teeth, filling him with forbidding.

The women saw him and flashed him a smile. She wore a mail shirt over a tunic and men's trousers. A leaf bladed sword hung at her hip, looking deadly and beautiful at the same time; like the owner. The silver sheath reflected the firelight eerily. Her golden locks fell halfway down her back, and her green eyes seemed to almost glow. The smile was still plastered on her face, but two of her teeth stood out looking sharp as daggers.

"Well," she said, her voice carried a beauty of its own, "If it isn't my old friend Sariah." Her vice dripped with venom at his mother's name. "It's been too long. What has it been? 10 years, I think."

"What are you doing here, Vaila?" Sariah said her voice oddly calm. Her armor jingled and clicked as she raised her sword to a defensive position.

The woman, Vaila, ignored her, and feigned surprise, as her eyes fell on Kyl. "Well this must be your son, Kyl." Her emerald eyes flashed, and a smile split her face. "He looks just like his father. And we all know how handsome he was. He looks just… scrumptious." The blood seemed to drain out of Kyl's mom, and the urgals next to the lady shuffled; stupid grins plastered on their faces, which was itself scarier than their physique.

The comment about his father caught Kyl's attention, who was contemplating on whether or not he could survive the jump from his window to the street bellow with no damage.

"You wouldn't dare…" Sariah said, her voice lost its steel, and now sounded more like a kid pleading with someone.

Kyl's head swam. _'What where they talking about? How did his mom know that woman that knew him but he had no recognition of her? What did she mean by scrumptious?'_ Kyle had an idea but hoped to the gods that he was wrong.

Vaila's face broke into a real grin, and her two fang-like teeth where replaced with seamless perfection. That seemed to be a sign, because the two urgal sprang forward, simultaneously; his mom a split second after them. Vaila didn't do anything for a total of five seconds, then, in the blink of an eye, she stood in front of Kyl, smiling, her fangs, for they were fangs, prominent again. His heartbeat jumped. Fear caused his throat to close, and sweat accumulated in his clenched hands.

"Hey their handsome," she said, her breath washing over him and would have rendered him incapable of coherent though or speech if he wasn't so scared. "You really do have the looks of your father. Too bad I have to kill you like I did him."

That caused something inside Kyl to break. Quickly turning form the strange woman and the clash of blades downstairs, Kyl stifled his fears and doubts, and jumped through the flaming shutters covering his window.

-RORAN-

The screams and moans of the dying, where drowned out by the beating of Roran's heart. His opponent, a young man, gave a clumsy swipe that forced him to duck despite the protests of his muscles.

_'I am too out of shape,' _Roran thought. _'It's a good thing that these guys are inexperienced, or I'd be dead meat.' _Leaning out of reach of the blade, Roran saw an opening in the man's defense, and lunged. The man gave a single gurgling cry, as the hammer crushed his chest plate. Roran watched as the death slowly took the young man, and swallowed back the bile that threatened him.

_'He probably had a wife, and a child,'_ he thought. He steeled himself._ 'He choose to attack my town and I will not stand by while my people are in danger.'_

The battle still raged on around him, but the men of Carvahall where tiring and Roran knew that if they didn't abandon the city they would all die. Early in the battle, Roran, knowing that it would come to this, sounded the evacuation. He had moved through the town, telling all the men to leave and take their families to Ilirea.

Roran jumped into the fight with renewed vigor, and within minutes the Enemy was retreating to the woods; no doubt too regroup, and begin the assault anew. The men of Carvahall surged forward to give pursuit; fueled by their victory.

"Hey!" Roran yelled, stopping them. "Get out of here! Find your families! Meet me at the capital ready for war!" It wasn't even a speech, but the men cheered, and started to disperse.

"Why not fight your war now?" said a voice of rocks being crushed behind him.

Roran's body tensed, and slowly he turned around. The eight foot tall kull stalked toward him, swinging the two handed mace easily in one hand. "I heard about you Stronghammer. Yarbog told the tale of your triumph over him many a seasons, before I took his head, and wife." His common was only barely passable, and he approached Roran swinging his mace easily. "I hear tales of your conquest from even my own people, and troops. Let us see if you are really what you are claimed to be."

He reached Roran, who had just scavenged a wooden shield form a fallen comrade, and took a wild swipe; which Roran was only able to deflect the blow. The shield splintered into many pieces, and the force of the blow left his arm numb and useless.

A yelp of pain escaped Roran's lips, and he fell to his knees cradling his arm. He glanced up to see the kull's arm's raised above its head; a smile playing on his lips.

Everything slowed down. In a burst of clairvoyance Roran saw that the kull leaned more on is left leg, and his legs, which were as thick as tree trunks, where spread for balance. In less than half a second Roran made a decision and sprang through his legs. The kull was caught off guard and didn't have to react.

Quickly Roran lashed out with his leg, catching the back of the urgal's knee. Unfortunately the urgal regained his wits quickly, and as he feel he rolled to his right breaking his fall. Roran followed suit; he brought his hammer to the kull's side hoping to catch it unprotected, but met with no such luck. His hammer only clanged off the mettle protecting his opponent. The force of the blow reverberated back and left his arm felling like it was covered in bees; it was all he could do not to drop his hammer.

'_Great,' _Roran thought ruefully, _'now I have two useless arms.'_

"So much for the great Stronghammer," the kull gloated, as he raised his mace again for the killing blow again.

The sound of wood splintering tore through the empty courtyard.

The sound mad Roran's would be executioner falter and hesitate, and glance for the source of the sound. Quickly Roran pounced. Gritting his teeth against the pain that flared in his arm, he sprang forward and slammed the top of his hammer against the kull's throat.

The mace landed on the ground, with a muffled thump, and the overgrown urgal fell to his knees clutching his throat. Anger filled Roran, and in his free hand grabbed one of the urgals horn in his free hand, and brought his hammer to the side of his head. There was the sound of bone breaking, and wood snapping, but Roran paid it no head, and brought the hammer down a second time; this time pushing the urgal's head into it.

The hammer broke. The handle snapped form the head, as it was lodged into the urgals head.

Roran stared at the handle in his hand. This was the hammer that he used sense the first siege of Carvahall. It was with him through his time in the Varden. With it he had slain twin magician, killed countless soldiers, and helped led the assault on Urû'baen. Now it met it's match at the skull of a thick-headed kull.

In another flash of anger, Roran slammed the jagged point into the kull's eye. Thick, warm blood welled out and coated his hand; it ran rivets down his hand, and squished between his fingers.

"Stupid, thick, kull skulls," Roran cursed, as he turned his back to the body.

-KYL-

He would have screamed if the sound didn't stop in his throat. His stomach felt like it was still in his room.

The ground slugged forward like a snail on a hot summer day. That was until the hand tightened around his shoulder, and forced him to turn in mid-air. Instinctively, Kyl's hand pulled his knife out, and his body jerked as the ground slammed into his back, driving the wind from his lungs.

His arm jerked back up, and he felt his knife sink into flesh, and a something, a body, landed on him, preventing him from filling his lungs again.

"No way…" came a weak voice close to his ear. There was a sound of snapping metal, and a final sigh. Then all was still for a second. Kyl was left to gasp for air, which steadily trickled into his lungs. His right side seemed to be wet, and the feeling was spreading across his torso.

There was the sound of a body falling, approaching footsteps that stopped just out of his field of view. For a woman, Vaila was a heavy person.

Kyl craned his neck to see the person standing over him.

The man was covered in battle grim, his red beard making him look wild, and his grey eyes hard as stones. He had a cut on one of his left forearm, and the other hand was covered in blood. In a start Kyl realized that the man was none other than the earl, Roran Stronghammer.

He had always been skeptical about the tales surrounding the man, especially the one that said he killed two hundred, in one day… all by himself. Throughout his time helping at his house, Kyl had never worked up the courage to ask him if it was true; but looking at him now he could see the man killing two hundred men and going to get a beer afterwards.

"Lord Stronghammer?" Kyl managed to gasp.

He grunted. "Good to see you still alive Kyl. It is you, right?" he asked. Kyl nodded as much as he could. "Good. And don't call me that just Stronghammer. But seeing as I don't have a hammer anymore, I guess it's just Roran now."

Roran stepped forward, and lifted the woman off Kyl. "Damn!" he exclaimed, and Kyl gasped for breath. "That woman was heavy." Without missing a beat, he glanced at silver protruding for a chink in her armor, and glanced back at Kyl. "Was that your doing?"

Kyl froze in his attempt to get to his feet. Would he be in trouble if he told the truth? He had killed that woman. Now he was going to pay the consequences.

"Hey," Roran said, his gruff voice gentle, "It's fine. I won't punish you, I just want to know."

Slowly Kyl nodded. "I jumped form the window, and somehow I stabbed her. I… killed her. And somehow the blade broke…" his voice faded away, as the realization of what he had done sunk in. He killed someone! He killed a woman!

The earl just nodded, and turned to the body, looking for something. With a satisfied grunt he swooped down, and plucked a knife from the dead body, and turned to Kyl with it hilt first.

"Keep it," he said. "Keep it and remember." Nothing else was said, but Kyl understood. He had taken someone's one chance of life away. Now they would never see the sun again, of feel the breeze of a gentle wind. "Can you run, boy?"

Kyl nodded.

"Then let's get out of here," and they turned, disappearing into the woods.


End file.
